


Cat's Cradle

by veridian



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M, Master/Servant, Mika dies but he gets better, Strangers to Lovers, shumika for the soul, unapologetic and self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veridian/pseuds/veridian
Summary: Puppetry is a noble and ancient magic, one the Itsuki family has practiced for centuries, and the youngest son of the current generation is no different....Well, perhaps he's a bit different. No one else has ever used a human as their doll before.





	1. tangled in mangled up knots

Of all the puppetry techniques in the world, there are none finer than the Itsuki family method.

Naturally, everyone’s opinion on the matter is different, but opinion hardly matters in the face of fact. From the time they are capable of basic spellcasting, the very first one they learn is to spin Thread. They spin, and spin, pouring every ounce of their magic into it, and by the time they are twenty-one years of age, they should have accumulated enough Thread to begin the process of Weaving—to sew life into a vessel of their choosing. Shu has known since childhood that his ideal vessel is his beloved doll, Mademoiselle; though he will be the first in generations not to craft his own, her craftsmanship is impeccable and he has done everything he can to keep her in pristine shape all these years.

He cradles her closely in the crook of his arm on the way home from his mundane, droll civilian work. It’s a necessity of blending in with the vast majority of people; they aren’t even aware magic exists, let alone that there are still a healthy number of families among them that practice it. But people who never emerge from their homes tend to cause rumors to spring up, more frequently than the dead rise in a neighborhood home to a necromancer, and so it must be done, even though Shu despises it. He has never fared well with crowds, and though he has older siblings, both successes in their own right, he has had little experience with strangers.

There was another child, once; a boy from the neighborhood, just a bit younger than Shu himself, who would occasionally come by and ask to play, never any parents in sight. His brother and sister sent the boy scattering whenever they were the ones who opened the door, but Shu’s single act of youthful defiance, in his time, had been to invite him inside to play. He’s often wondered whatever became of that boy and his brilliant mismatched eyes after the patriarch of the illustrious Itsuki family kicked him to the curb upon discovering him in his manor.

In the end, he supposes it doesn’t matter. They would never have been allowed to intermingle in the first place; though there are some families who are less strict about contact with common folk, the Itsuki family has not kept its place by relenting.

“Excuse me,” he hears someone saying to him, and he snaps out of his reverie to look at them. It’s a young couple with a child, probably not any older than six. “May I ask where you purchased that doll?” the mother asks.

“She is an antique, and though I have done my best to research her origins, I have found little. However, if you are looking for a high-quality doll for your daughter, there is a shop not far from here that I can recommend.”

“Oh, really?” The mother beams. “Thank you. It’s her birthday in a few weeks, you see…”

The chat continues, slightly stilted by Shu’s rapidly-building anxiety at having to engage in long conversation, but goes off more or less without a hitch. The shop information acquired, the young couple and their daughter settle back into their seats on the bus, and Shu inwardly breathes a sigh of relief. This, too, is the burden of a prominent mage family; emotional instability has caused one too many dangerous situations in the history of magic, so despite his own turbulent feelings, remaining calm is paramount.

It becomes significantly more difficult to remain calm, however, when the bus makes a sudden swerve into oncoming traffic. In an instant, the entire vehicle is overturned, lights flickering and the smell of smoke making it difficult to get his bearings; he hears a terrified child screaming and realizes it’s the same little girl from a few minutes ago. He isn’t sure when he ended up on his side, lying flat against one of the bus windows, but he staggers to his feet and in her direction. Healing, too, is among the arts of puppetry, but it seems the child is just frightened, and her parents, while not uninjured from the crash, are both alive and doing what they can to pacify their daughter.

Shu turns his attention to other passengers, then, realizing dully that not everyone was as fortunate. He purses his lips and, loath though he is to do it, carefully tucks Mademoiselle into his briefcase—better she remain in there than out in the open, exposed to smoke and flame from the bus crash.

“What happened?” the child’s father asks, more to the air than to anyone present. It’s a fair question. Shu looks over to the driver to assess her condition, but she’s passed out, face pressed against the door of the bus from where she was thrown into it. He hesitates, unsure if he should shake her awake, when he spots a large, lumbering shadow out of the corner of his vision.

Standing not twenty feet from the bus is the unmistakable silhouette of a chimera.

“What…” What is one of them doing here? Are there any alchemists in this city? If there are, they haven’t introduced themselves to his family—a concern he realizes is out of place only once the chimera locks eyes with him.

He staggers backward. He’s a puppeteer, not a fighter, and his defensive magic has always been pitiful besides. There’s nothing standing between him and the beast, though, and he thinks perhaps he might understand the basics of a barrier—if not to protect himself, then surely to protect that child, everyone interested in dolls should at least be given the opportunity to own one before they die, it’s such a wonderful experience—

But before the beast can pounce, it’s knocked into the air by a concussive force, and Shu breathes his second sigh of relief of the day. There’s someone else here capable of magic, and it seems far more suited to combat…perhaps an emergency suppression team, depending on how long the chimera has been running around town. Taking a look around, he notes a cloud of smoke rising some distance away, and as multiple people close in on the beast, he realizes his suspicion is correct.

“Best to leave this to the professionals,” he mutters, acknowledging one of them with a nod and a particular gesture of the arm. Memory wipes are common after this kind of incident, and so a subtle alert system designed for mages to communicate without words has arisen to prevent prominent families from having their heirs caught in that crossfire. The riot team member responds in kind, turning to his partner, who nods at Shu as well. Another pair of mages approaches him and escorts him to the side, where they’ve set up a makeshift medical station.

“Apologies for the conditions,” one of them says, grimacing at the bodies and the moaning wounded strewn about the asphalt. “This thing’s been loose for about half an hour, and then it caused this pileup just when we were closing in…” She nudges someone with her foot, an unfortunate corpse caught up at the wrong place in the wrong time. Its head lolls to the side, blank eyes gazing at something beyond the sky.

Shu’s chest heaves.

Emotional instability has caused problems for the world of mages far too many times. If anything happens now, it will make the cleanup that much worse. It doesn’t matter how much this man looks just like that boy, eyes of amber and lapis lazuli darkened and dulled beyond repair, he has to compose himself, he can’t allow himself to panic, this scrambling in his chest and the rock in his stomach have to be banished as soon as possible—

“Are you okay?” the riot team member asks, putting a hand on his arm. She immediately yanks it back, however, cursing and recoiling. “What the hell?!”

“What’s the matter?” her partner asks. “Is he a live one?”

“I don’t know! What the hell is this—_ string _—”

Shu’s body moves before he’s cognizant of it, kneeling by the corpse and sewing its burst chest back together, hands moving at superhuman speeds, patching the holes in its skull, stitching its organs back together and tugging bones back into place. He hears the riot team telling him to stop, but it’s distant, easily ignored with his heartbeat thumping in his own eardrums.

It is over in less than a minute: the formerly battered corpse is in pristine condition, looking for all the world like a man who simply found the ground a comfortable place to sleep.

The members of the riot team exchange glances. “Awful kind of you to do that for him,” the woman begins, “but…”

Shu hangs his head. “I know.” This, too, is something puppeteers can be called upon in the world of mages. Stitching corpses together ensures dignity at funerals, largely reserved for other mage families; fixing this one will only make more work for the riot team, who now have to come up with a cover story for its peaceful appearance amidst a world of sparks, smoke, and blood. “He…he reminded me of…”

He never gets to finish his sentence, however, because the corpse’s eyes snap open and it sits up abruptly, sucking in a huge breath and then glancing down at its own chest in alarm.

The riot team have both the corpse and Shu on the ground in three seconds flat. “What kind of necromancy racket are you running?” the male riot cop hisses.

“My breast pocket! My identificaton and credentials are—”

“Shut up,” he snarls, reaching into the specified pocket. “Let’s see, here…says that you’re a…” He goes pale, straightening up as he reads the documents. “Hey, Risa, let up. This one’s an Itsuki.”

“Huh?” The woman, apparently Risa, immediately lets go of the corpse, which still looks beyond perplexed. “If he’s an Itsuki, then he can’t be a necromancer, right? But I’ve never seen any kind of puppetry like this before…”

Shu slowly turns to the corpse. “I think…” he begins, but clears his throat to try again. “I think I understand. Watch this.” He gently, slowly reaches toward the corpse, finds the tension points in the air, and twitches a finger.

“Nnhah?!” The corpse—not a corpse, Shu corrects himself, but the doll—utters a wordless cry of surprise as his arm raises beyond his control. “What th’ heck?! What’re you doin’ ta—”

“Quiet,” Shu murmurs, and his jaw snaps shut. “I…”

He’s never heard of anything like this happening before. No one has ever attempted puppetry on another person before, let alone _ succeeded. _ Though now that it occurs to him, until just now, he wasn’t a person at all, was he?

He was an empty body. A perfect receptacle for a puppeteer’s Thread.

“I…” His throat is dry. That Thread had been intended for Mademoiselle, and now that he’s plunged the depths of his mana, he’s able to confirm for himself that the vast stores of power he’d been spinning has all but depleted.

“So this was your puppet all along, huh?” Risa asks, sighing. “You gave me quite a fright. It’s pretty gross, though…” She gives the doll a sidelong glance. “Its organs look pretty real.”

“Of course it does, idiot,” her partner retaliates, handing Shu’s credentials back. He takes them numbly. “That’s the whole point of puppetry.”

“Not always. You know, I’m related to the Margatroids, and when they make their puppets, they’re all stuffed with cotton and straw—”

The argument between the partners fades away to meaningless noise, and Shu realizes he’s been holding the doll’s arm up this whole time. He relaxes his hands and both the doll’s jaw and arm fall slack, though it only takes a second for him to resume talking.

“What th’ hell happened to me?” he asks. “What did ya _ do? _”

Shu avoids his gaze, staring at a peculiarly shaped puddle of blood on the ground. “I seem to have made my very first mistake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you think you spotted a touhou reference, you did. i was touhou trash before i was anything else.
> 
> this is the introductory chapter to the universe i've cobbled together and i always feel kind of [waves hand] about those, but make no mistake: this is an unapologetic romantic fic. thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoy this and future updates.


	2. hanging by a thread

The wait for the Itsuki family car is unbearably long. It must have been at least an hour, perhaps more. Shu glances at the watch on his wrist.

It’s been three minutes.

The doll… _ his _ doll, this perfect stranger, fidgets next to him, tugging his sleeves down over his hands every so often, glancing up at Shu’s face and then averting his eyes just as quickly.

“If you have something to say, then say it,” Shu says, looking at his watch again, just in case any noteworthy time has passed in the thirty seconds it’s been since he checked it last.

“What’m I s’posed to say?” he mumbles, twisting a stray thread from his sleeve around his finger. “I don’t get any of this at all…how come I’m all fixed up? I was attacked by…”

Shu grits his teeth. He can’t very well ask the riot team to erase the doll’s memories; having them misunderstand the situation is advantageous to him in so many ways that surely this one issue is worth it. But the benefits of not having to file paperwork and deal with sanctions placed on the family name mean that he must, inevitably, shoulder the burden of explaining the situation to a man who still has no idea that magic exists.

“What’s yer name?” he asks, curiosity shining in his eyes.

“I am Itsuki Shu. And you are…?”

“Kagehira Mika. Jus’ callin’ me Kagehira is fine, though…my first name, it’s kinda girly, right? I don’ like it so much…”

“Kagehira, then.” Shu hesitates, purses his lips. “Was there anyone with you when you were attacked?”

“Nah, s’just me. S’always been just me.” Mika shakes his head, reaching up to rub one of his own shoulders absent-mindedly. “Are you gonna fix any of the other people, too?”

Shu glances back over at the medical team. It’s within his abilities to at the very least help them close some wounds with his threadlike mana, but getting Mika out of the public eye takes priority. “They seem to have everything handled,” he says brusquely.

“Huh?” Mika seems slightly thrown by his answer, eyebrows furrowing as he lowers his gaze to the ground. “Oh, are you outta MP or somethin’?”

Shu’s never played a video game in his life, but being a mage in this modern era means needing to understand when someone has found your secret lifestyle and when someone is just trying to engage in conversation, so brushing up on common terms like that is mandatory. He wrinkles his nose, waving a hand. “I suppose one could put it like that, if one fails to understand.”

“I’m sure failin’ at that,” Mika says, looking back over at the wounded again. “I don’ get any of this at all.”

“I will explain as much as you need to know as soon as I am able.” It’s probably best not to involve his parents or his siblings just yet; he’s an adult, after all, and though this is a problem that no one on Earth could have anticipated, he should be able to tackle it himself. Explaining things to the driver later is going to be slightly difficult, but he’s already come up with something that he thinks will do. “By the way, Kagehira. On the ride home, do not speak of anything you saw today. If you are asked any questions, simply say that there was a traffic accident, you found yourself stranded, and you happen to live in the same complex as I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“It doesn’t matter  _ why. _ I have given you an order, and you are to obey it.”

Mika makes a noise that indicates he’s not sure he gets it, but he nods anyway. Shu hasn’t even needed to compel him to do anything with magic, not since ordering him to be quiet in front of the riot team. Is he really just this docile of a person, even in the face of everything he knows about the world shattering?

Perhaps that will work to his advantage.

“Stuff like magic…” Mika says, tugging on his sleeve again. “Has it, y’know…always existed, the whole time?”

Shu nods curtly. “The current statistics indicate about one in ten average people have had a run-in with our world. Though many of them are forced to forget.”

“Not me, though?” The frown is back.

“Not you.”

Mika looks like he wants to say something, but a familiar car comes to a stop right in front of Shu, and he opens the door, gesturing for Mika to get in first. The driver raises his eyebrows in the rearview mirror, but Shu simply closes the car door after he gets in and waves a hand.

Apparently, rather than accidentally say something he shouldn’t, Mika elects to remain silent the whole drive home, glancing between Shu and the driver’s reflection with utterly nervous energy the entire time. As soon as they’re out of the car and standing in front of the apartment complex that Shu calls home, his entire body sags like his strings have been cut. “I was so nervous…kept thinkin’ he was gonna start askin’ me questions…”

“It isn’t his place to question where I go and who I travel with.” Shu strides toward the complex, beckoning for Mika to follow, which he does without hesitation. “Where do you live, Kagehira?”

“Oh, uh…” He scratches the back of his head. “Nowhere near as nice as this. Pretty close to where the, uh…the accident happened…um, I’d actually been hopin’ to stop by my place, jus’ to let my neighbors know I’m okay, ‘cuz I don’ wanna trouble ‘em any if the police can’t find me or somethin’ an’ they gotta do an investigation…”

“Best to let them think you disappeared,” Shu says, leading him to the elevator. “You won’t be going back there, after all.”

When the elevator door opens, he takes a step toward it, but doesn’t hear Mika following him, so he glances back over his shoulder. Well, he supposes everyone has their limits, though he wasn’t expecting it to be something as mundane as this. “Is there a problem?” he asks, knowing fully well from the expression on Mika’s face that there is.

“I…” Mika fumbles with his sleeves. The elevator door shuts. “Um, are you gonna kill me?”

“Kill you?” Shu repeats incredulously. “Why would I go through the effort of bringing you to my home in order to kill you? No, if I’d wanted you dead, I’d have left you there.” He pushes the button on the elevator again, already running short on patience. “You had done a magnificent job of dying without my help.”

“Y’left all those other people there, though,” Mika mumbles. Shu pretends not to hear him; this isn’t something to be discussed in the lobby. This time, Mika follows him into the elevator when the doors open, peering curiously at him again as Shu pushes three buttons at the same time. “Is this some kinda Harry Potter stuff…?” he asks.

Shu sniffs derisively. “Again with these useless pop culture metaphors. There is an extra floor in this building dedicated entirely to my use, and this is what I have to do in order to get there.”

“A whole floor? It really is like some kinda kids’ book!”

“Quiet, Kagehira!” Mika’s mouth snaps shut the same way it had previously, and Shu watches him try to pry it open with his hands out of the corner of his eyes the entire ride up.

He’s given up by the time the elevator doors open again, revealing lavish furniture and decorations. Rather than segmented apartments, as per the rest of the building, Shu’s living space is more akin to a flat, complete with a kitchen and three bedrooms. He’s sure that Mika’s jaw would be on the floor were his lips not currently sewn together, judging by how wide his eyes are.

After allowing Mika several seconds to get over his initial shock, Shu flexes his fingers, pulling back his invisible threads. “Y’really  _ live _ here?!” are the first words out of his mouth, immediately gasping in amazement, just like Shu predicted.

“You will be living here too, so do try to get acquainted with the layout. It’s much larger and more open than the standard Japanese apartment, after all.”

“M-Me?!”

Shu slips off his shoes, waiting for Mika to do the same while he removes his coat and hangs it up. It will need to be drycleaned later, clogged as it is with smoke and ash. He hears Mika haphazardly dropping his shoes on the floor, then trying to line them up evenly in a tizzy while he removes Mademoiselle from his briefcase, smoothing out her hair and her skirt. “I am truly sorry, Mademoiselle,” he sighs, twisting her perfect golden locks around his index finger. “The biggest regret of my life is that I will never…”

He glances over at Mika and sees him standing by a piece of furniture, looking back at him expectantly. Right. Of course he’d like some answers. Shu sighs, tucking Mademoiselle onto her usual perch on his arm, and takes a seat, gesturing for Mika to do the same—something he does with no small amount of hesitation, like he’s worried he’s going to soil the upholstery just by sitting on it.

“Let me begin with the basics, then. I am the youngest son of the Itsuki family of puppeteers. Essentially, all you need to know is that I specialize in creative and restorative magic.” He leans back in his chair. “And you, beginning right now, are to be my puppet.”

Mika is chewing on his lip, now, something Shu somehow manages to find more annoying than his earlier sleeve-tugging. “What’s that…mean, ‘zactly?”

“I suppose you can look at it as being my servant. Of course, I will take care of your needs—you will be housed, bathed…dressed,” he adds, giving a disapproving look at what Mika is wearing. “Fed, if necessary, though I’m not certain whether or not you will need to eat just yet. This entire situation is…unprecedented, to say the least.” He sighs in irritation. “I had only meant to stitch your body back together, to ensure you were presentable at your funeral. I…” He narrows his eyes. “Perhaps I should consult Rei about this…? Necromancy is something of a specialty of his, though this is clearly distinct from whatever it is he practices…”

“So…” Mika interrupts, his face an inscrutable mess of fear, sadness, and nerves. “I really…died, huh…”

Shu stops mid-mutter, feeling like something of an idiot. He hadn’t considered for a moment how Mika would take the news that he was technically a reanimated corpse. A dumb move, in hindsight, but it’s too late now. “You did. But you are most definitely…” He pauses, unsure if he should say that Mika is alive, and ends up trailing off.

Mika pulls his shirt away from his body, looking down at his own chest. “S'like nothin' even happened. Thanks fer fixin' me up,” he says, grinning with wide, uneven enthusiasm. “If all I gotta do is be your servant t'make up fer that, I'll do it gladly.”

Shu hesitates, brow furrowing. He's really, truly never met anyone so nonchalant in his life. It's a bit unsettling, to be honest. “It will not be an easy task. My family is one of the most prominent magical bloodlines in Japan, and I certainly cannot present you to them as you are now. That accent, those clothes…” He waves a hand dismissively. “To be blunt, you are the exact opposite of everything I have ever wanted in a doll. But you are the only one I will have, so we'll simply both have to work with the cards fate has dealt.” He sighs, leans back slightly in his seat.

“Why can't ya jus' make another one, if I'm not good enough?” Mika asks, so matter-of-factly that Shu hesitates to answer again.

“The Itsuki method of puppeteering is, at present, the only one capable of producing true sentience. Other families can create multitudes of dolls…perhaps even armies, if they so choose, but all they can be are automata, mindless things capable of responding only to orders. However, the advantage to such crude methods is that they require relatively little power to create, whereas something as complicated as a doll from the Itsuki family requires decades' worth of magical power. And because magical power becomes more sparse the older a mage becomes…” Even if he waited until the final moment of his life, he will never have enough magic to produce another sentient doll. “Well, barring a miracle, you are the only one I will ever have.”

“Then…can't ya just take yer magic outta me?” Mika asks, mismatched eyes boring into Shu's as though he hasn't just said something outrageous.

“I am almost certain you would die.”

“Yeah, I get it, but I woulda died anyway?”

Shu, thrown by the nonchalance Mika has toward his own life, takes a moment to form his next argument. “No one has ever removed a Thread from a doll once it has been Woven, so I don't know if I would be able to use it again even if I did. And I would rather have a doll I must mold to my vision than none at all.” Shu indignantly crosses his arms. "There are merits to you that I believe I can make work. For instance, you've got a decent face, though you sorely need to wash it, and your eyes are simply sublime.”

Mika tilts his head, expression suddenly inscrutable, and says nothing else.

“In any case…” Shu stands, adjusting Mademoiselle on his arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Huh?” Mika shrugs. “I don’ really feel any different than usual, I guess…?”

Shu reaches for his arm and presses his fingers against Mika’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. “Fascinating. I’m sure this is the Thread’s work, but your circulatory system is functioning as usual.” He drops Mika’s hand. “Tomorrow, we are making a visit to a friend of mine who I trust implicitly. You are the first doll that I know of who has ever been made out of a human being, so I need to understand exactly how your body works, and what to expect of you.” He pauses, pursing his lips before continuing, “I imagine it will put you somewhat at ease, as well. I know this change in your life must be very difficult for you.”

Not difficult enough for Shu to reconsider making him do it, though. There’s nothing that would persuade him differently.

Mika makes a noncommittal noise, tugging at his sleeve again. “S’alright. Like I said, I don’ mind. Ya saved my life, after all. Owin’ the rest of it to ya is jus’ easier than movin’ on like nothin’ happened.”

“Kagehira,” Shu says quietly, “I want you to think carefully before you answer. This…personality of yours,” he says, haltingly, knowing he’s being tactless but not knowing how  _ not _ to be, “is this something caused by some sort of compelling force to be obedient, or have you always been this way? I am not trying to influence your thoughts in any way, but…”

Mika laughs. “Y’don’t gotta worry ‘bout that. This is jus’ how I am. I know it ain’t good, ‘cuz I ain’t any good, an’ Naru-chan’s always tellin’ me the way I think is scary, but…” He gives Shu a bright grin. “Havin’ somethin’ to live for…knowin’ that I’m livin’ for someone else, instead of just kinda wanderin’ through everything, is nice.”

Shu doesn’t even know how to begin to respond to that, so he simply gives a short sigh and strides over to a plastic cup perched conspicuously on its own small table. Mika wilts slightly as he watches him go; he hadn’t been quite sure how he’d wanted Shu to react, but that weird, startled look in his eyes said enough.

Shu feels Mika’s gaze on him but ignores it as he picks the cup up and taps the bottom of it with two fingers. A bright green string of magic snakes off of it and darts toward and then through the wall, eventually snagging on something and pulling itself taut. He holds the cup up to his ear until a muffled voice comes out of it, at which point he puts it to his mouth and speaks into it.

“Yes, I understand it’s late. This is an emergency, however, so I expect you to make time for me tomorrow. In fact, clearing your entire schedule would be best. I promise to present you with something you have never seen before. Is that good enough of a bargain for someone of your standing?”

The muffled voice comes through the line again, and Shu smirks. “Believe me. You will be the only fae in Japan—perhaps the entire world—to have seen this, boy. You would do well to accept this bargain before I offer it to Rei instead.”

A few more quick exchanges with the voice on the line, and Shu puts the cup down. The thread severs itself instantly, fading away like it was never there.

Mika is staring at him, eyes wide, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue, though the only one he manages to blurt out is, “Fairies are real?”

“They are, and one will be here tomorrow morning. You’ll need to be presentable by then, of course. Another sleepless night, then…” He doesn’t have any clothing in Mika’s size, but altering some items in his own wardrobe to fit his doll is well within his abilities. “The bath is down the hall to the right. I expect you to be thoroughly clean, so don’t come out until you are. As for where you can sleep…the guest room at the other end of the hall is fully furnished and cleaned regularly, so it should be suitable. If you find you cannot sleep, come find me. Understood, Kagehira?”

“Sure thing…uh,” Mika hesitates. “It don’ seem right just to call ya by yer name…”

Shu frowns, about to say that just calling him Itsuki is fine, but Mika preempts him, a warm smile lighting up his face.

“So I’ll call ya Oshi-san! Yer kinda like my mentor fer the magic world, after all.” Before Shu can object, Mika is already heading down the hall. Shu smooths Mademoiselle’s skirt, watching him go, and then turns his attention to the task at hand. He should have waited until he’d taken more accurate measurements before committing to altering some clothes, but at the very least he can take some hems in until Mika is clean. Before he can even head toward his room to get some extra clothes, however, Mika reappears, a troubled look on his face. “Everythin' okay, Oshi-san?” he asks, uncertainty in his voice.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“I jus’ got this feelin’ like you needed me for somethin’.”

“As a matter of fact,” Shu says slowly, “I did.”

This is _definitely _something caused by his own magic, he thinks to himself as he takes Mika’s measurements, pausing uncomfortably for what seems like the millionth time when he can handily feel every rib in his chest and again as he jots down the miserably small measurement of his waist.

He doesn’t know what kind of life Mika has been living up until now, but he thinks he might be beginning to understand why he hasn’t exactly been hesitant to leave it behind.

He spends the rest of the night sewing in silence, contemplating the difference in weight between Mika’s body and his life, now resting heavily upon his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun notes that may come into play later (or at least definitely will, in natsume's case):
> 
> shu is the only human in a friend group of five. the other four are generally considered weirdoes among their species for their bonds with one another and for their unprecedented power in their chosen field of magic; rei, a vampire, specializes in necromancy; kanata, a [redacted] from an ancient undersea cult that [redacted], specializes in [redacted] believed to have originated somewhere in outer space; natsume, one of the fae, is noteworthy for his nigh endless pool of magical power and natural talent for everything non-combat-related; and finally, wataru is a changeling who specializes in illusion magic. shu's ability isn't any more or less unique than anyone in his family because his "oddity" is getting on so well with four creatures generally considered completely malicious to humans in the first place in this particular setting.


End file.
